


Is The Earth Colored Red

by StillMyHeartIsHeavy



Category: Cursed (2020), Cursed (Netflix), Cursed - Thomas Wheeler
Genre: Adventure, Brotherly Bonding, Crying a lot, Cursed, Dysfunctional Family, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, Healing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lancelot x Pym, Rewrite, Scars, Slow Burn, Spoilers, The Weeping Monk - Freeform, The Weeping Monk x Pym, Trauma, Walks In The Woods, cursed (netflix) - Freeform, fey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25445269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StillMyHeartIsHeavy/pseuds/StillMyHeartIsHeavy
Summary: Pym accompanies Squirrel and Gawain on the search party. Chaos, Crying and Comfort.The Weeping Monk x Pym
Comments: 18
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (THIS CHAPTER HAD A SMALL RE-WRITE)  
> Hello!  
> This here my friends, is my first fic!  
> I just finished Cursed and wanted to stay a bit longer in that fantasy realm!  
> I adore Pym! But the thing with Dof? She deserved some love!  
> This fic explores the possibility of Pym and The Weeping Monk having some interactions.  
> > Hope you guys like it! And if you don't, leave some good criticism. I would appreciate that.  
> (Note: I am not a native speaker and may have some trouble with the tense)

**PART ONE**

> The Weeping Monk pointed his sword at the fallen Fey Guard. ‘‘They want you alive, Green Knight.‘‘

Squirrel watched from behind a fallen tree in horror. _He’s here again. That ugly face._ He scrambled to his feet, ready to storm off and help the knight. But a small, firm hand kept him under cover. ‘‘Stay here, Squirrel.‘‘ Pym whispers. Nimue had asked her to keep an eye on the boy during the search. He could not be swayed to stay in Gramaire. ‘‘We are nothing against that Monster! Do you have a death wish?‘‘. Squirrel did not care for the anger in her voice, ‘‘He’s going to kill him if we don’t help, Pym please!‘‘ But there was no use in pleading with her. She kept her hand on his shoulder and gave him a stern look. ‘‘Watch!‘‘, she whispered, ‘‘He’s taking him hostage‘‘.

They crouched through the thick green. Keeping their distance behind trees and bushes. The Monk had thrown Gawain over his horse and walked it near a small path. Blood was dripping down the horse's fur. Squirrel couldn’t look. After a while the forest turned into solitary trees and clearings. The enemy's camp already visible behind the branches. She peered towards the sky. Morning wouldn‘t show its face for a few hours, but the moon was bright tonight. They had a good view over the grounds. Illuminated by fire, a sea of red moved through the endless tents and crates. Pym watched them. _How fitting of them to wear the colour of blood. In honor of the gruesome image they leave in their wake. In flames and ash, everything lost to their hate._

The boy almost passed the last line of cover they had.

‘‘We need to wait. They’ll spot us easily.‘‘ Pym stopped him, grabbing the end of his cloak.

‘‘You know‘‘ she began, ‘‘The Raiders always attacked when the night wore its darkest shade.‘‘

Two hours had passed. Squirrel couldn’t stay still. He paced up and down behind a line of trees. ‘‘How much longer? He needs me! I’m his second in command.‘‘ Pym looked up as dark clouds swallowed the light of the moon.

She gave him a nod. ‘‘Now.‘‘

* * *

_Something had changed in her. Pym didn’t know if it was the many horrid wounds she had seen and stitched up on the raiders ship, the death of Dof, or simply the ongoing slaughter of her own kind, that sat cold and heavy in her heart. She had cried in Gramaire. Felt alone once again. What had happened to her handsome raider, hollowed her. He had helped her and he actually liked her! For once. To think that her past self was almost certain, the only outcome for her life was to become a Fishermans‘ wife, destined to clean up entrails. She would‘ve never imagined to be where she was now. But It has hardened her. She was glad for it. (And she could actually lift a real weapon now!) So the decision to follow Squirrel into the heart of their enemy’s lair wasn’t that shocking to her (Maybe a little bit). She wanted to be useful. Gawain had done so much for their kin. He deserved a rescue party. Even if it was just Squirrel and her._

* * *

They sprang into action under the cover of complete darkness. Their frames melting into the night. What an admirable thing, to be so small that you can basically hide behind anything. Pym stuffed her long braid under her cloak. She felt it irritating her now. The few torches they passed on their way made an uncomfortable heat rise to her face. Flushed, she put down her hood. After a quick survey their surroundings offered a surprisingly vast opportunity for cover. The two of them chose to crouch undernath an empty wagon. Squirrel pointed towards a big white tent, that was lined with a red trim. The entrance had one guard on post.

''I think I heard the Green Knight! He must be in there.'' He told her, excited with the prospect of actually saving him. Pym motioned him to stay quiet. 

The fey girl listened closely and could make out some muffled words coming from the tent. ‘‘There’s someone else with him in there, we must be careful.‘‘. But Squirrel was already plotting, he had an excellent plan. Run there, fast as a fox and slit open the tent with his dagger. Slip in unnoticed, free the Knight. He nodded to himself. Before Pym could grab him he was already gone. She called out his name after him, still hushed, not to get anyones attention. Pym waited for him, she did. Atleast a full minute. Until she got anxious. And the not-knowing made her jump up. She hit her head on the bottom of the wooden wagon. ‘‘Piss off!‘‘, she mumbled to the inanimate object. But thank the demons on these lands! Someone must’ve heard her. Because now there was a commotion near her. Two Red Paladin soldiers advanced. One of them grabbed her by the braid and janked at it. ‘‘Come out of there you little Fey scum‘‘, sneered the other one. She half- crawled half- got dragged out from underneath the wagon. They grabbed her forcefully and shoved her to walk forward. ‘‘Pretty hair she got. Don’t you think? Bet‘ that’ll stink like hell once we burn her!‘‘. They both laughed.

* * *

The morning broke. Rays of the first light wandered down the hills. She hasn't watched the sunrise in quite a while, but having to sit in a cell, fit for a dog, really narrows your options. She wondered if Squirrel has had any more luck than she did. He was, after all very small. She could only pray for him now. _That stupidly brave kid._ They had bound her hands with rope. Leaving red marks already. _How the fuck am I going to get out of here. How am I supposed to help you now Squirrel!_ She smacked her head against the iron cage. _Fuck._ ‘‘Don’t you dare kill yourself, before we have cleansed you.‘‘ A red paladin smirked at her. ‘‘It’s your lucky day, fey bitch. You’re gonna see one of your own soon. Come on now, don’t make me wait.‘‘ He opened the cell and grabbed her arm.

As they walked over the campside. The men around her barked and laughed. This was another small victory. Every dead or soon-to-be dead fey made them feel accomplished in their power. Or so it seemed.

She stood a few feet away from a big blue tent. Eyes skipping over every face until she saw him. Squirrel. _No, gods!_ His wrists were bound in the same rope they had used on her. A Red Paladin soldier grabbed him by the neck. His voice bellowed, proud: ‘‘Those two were found sneaking around camp yesterday, seemed like an awfully planned rescue attempt for our other prisoner.‘‘ - ‘‘What will you have us do with them, Father?‘‘. _The adressed man had a kind face_ , she thought. _That must be Father Carden_. _The self-proclaimed hand of god._ _How could someone be so cruel and twisted inside._ ‘‘Now, now. What brings us our righteous god. A present for our hard work? Two demonic beings. That is what I told you, brothers. They have many faces. This child, brave yet possesed by evil. And this!‘‘ Pointing his finger at Pym -‘‘Girl, fair, looks like it couldn’t harm you. But oh, we will reveal their true faces before god.'' He turned around.

''Burn them.''

‘‘You ugly old man! We aren’t just some lowly fey folk. We are soldiers of our Queen. The Wolfblood Witch. And this here, is her best friend. She will come for her! She will come for us and kill you all!'' Squirrel spat at his back. Pym scrunched up her face. _This can’t be good._ The man turned around and inspected them. ‘‘Well. Let us inquire some things then, yes? Bring them to Brother Salt and his kitchen.‘‘ He commanded.

‘‘He’s just a child.‘‘ A cloaked figure appeared near the side of the Man. The paladins stared at him. Hate burned in Pym. _This Sodder! He’s the reason we’re all here in this murder camp._ Squirrel looked up in disbelief.

‘‘You!‘‘ he gasped.

The Weeping Monk spoke up again ‘‘You don’t need him.‘‘ as if to defend his initial words. Pym couldn't make out his face from where she stood. Who wears their hood up all of the time? For drama? Disfiguration? Shame? Her train of thought got cut short as Father Carden strode up to the Grey Monk and hit him across the face with force.

Pym and Squirrel couldn’t hear the rest of their words. They were being dragged away, to that big white-red tent again. _Shit, this certaintly can’t be good. fuck._ Pym cursed inwardly. She looked over to Squirrel. His eyes have become distant. He seemed broken, now that she took a closer look at him. _What has he seen?_ But she didn't have a chance to ask. The soldiers seperated them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be incredibly slow i think! As it already took me two days to write the first part. And they haven't really met yet!  
> If you want to check out some songs i listened to while writing.  
> Foreigners God by Hozier and It Happened Quiet by Aurora (which inspired the titel for this one)
> 
> Thank you for reading  
> Please leave some comments.  
> :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentioned violence/torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slowwww  
> but steady!  
> I was so surprised by all of your lovely comments on the first chapter, thank you!  
> This is going to be a long fic, hope u r okay with that :7

**< >**

Today she could’ve been anywhere. She could’ve been on a ship, bonding with the red spear. Stitching up another axe wound. Drinking, forgetting. She could’ve been in the safety of her home. Although, _her_ home was long gone. Yet she was not ready to fathom the exact extent of that loss. A silent promise was made right there, to think about that, later, perhaps with some wine or ale to aid the ache that’s been growing in her stomach. But there must’ve been some place safe. Somewhere. Anything really! Other than that metal chair she was strapped to at the moment.

Pym woke with a headache so horrible, the dim lit tent felt like burning arrows shot right through her eyes. And there was… something wet dripping down from her nose. She tried moving the muscles in her face, but that wasn’t the brightest idea aswell. _Okay, so there is definetly something broken. Gods. What exactly did I do to earn that? Besides being fey, obviously._ Pained, she mover her head from side to side. Squirrel wasn’t here with her! She hoped that meant something good. _Maybe the paladins had some heart in them left. Or perhaps they just didn’t have any more room to spare in this… examination tent?_ The tent was crammed with tools, weapons and devices she did not want to inspect any closer. Never has she been around that much iron, especially not for torture purposes. _Good job, Pym. Always experiencing new stuff, right?_ So this was the mentioned kitchen. But where was Brother Salt? She scanned the room again. There was no paladin around at the moment, but behind the center pole of the tent stood another metal chair, facing the wall. A figure sat in it, slouched over. There must’ve been cuts and wounds oozing and bleeding all over their body. A small pool of blood had already formed underneath the chair. Was this Gawain? She didn’t dare break the silence that filled the tent. A slow shudder broke out in her. This could be the only time they were alone. She made a silent call.

‘‘Gawain! Is that you?‘‘ No noises. No answer.

‘‘Gawain!‘‘

A pained groan answered her. ‘‘Pym?‘‘ he rasped. Relief bloomed in her chest, making that knotted tightness loosen a little. ‘‘Thank the gods, you’re still alive. Did you meet Squirrel? He slipped away from me, I couldn’t stop him. He really wanted to save you.‘‘ She said with a sad smile. There was another pause. Gawain coughed.

‘‘Yes, the boy came to me. We talked.‘‘ Silence. ‘‘I couldn’t stop them. They just took him. Tell me, where is he now?‘‘

‘‘I’m not sure‘‘ Pym started, ‘‘they seperated us infront of this tent. Most of my memory after that is hazy. I don’t even know how they broke my nose. That must‘ve knocked me out pretty well. Maybe he had a chance to escape. You know how fast he is.‘‘ In the back of her mind, images of fire and wooden crosses resurfaced. Dread spread and filled her with worry. _If they burned him._ No, no, no. He’s still alive. She reassured herself. Gawain spoke up again. It was strange to hear someone talk and not be able to look at them. But she feared the state of his face. ‘‘Don’t worry too much, Pym. Squirrel is resourceful. He’s probably plotting as we speak.‘‘ He sounded strained, weak. _Monsters they were. They were far worse than any tales of dark gods and demons they’ve been told as children._ She hoped Squirrel hadn‘t seen Gawain like this. But he had seen too much anyway. What is a kid supposed to see, but violence and death, if war is upon them. They fell into silence again after that. Thoughts of the last few weeks were circling and crashing through her head. Suddenly light flooded the room. She squinted. The pain in her head was already coming back in full force. A tall, bald headed man walked into the tent. Another paladin followed his step. _The man’s eyes were closed? Why were they closed?_ ‘‘The two of you had a nice chat, yeah? Hopefully you-‘‘ Pym flinched as he came her way. ‘‘Will be more cooperative than our friend over there.‘‘. _His eyes were sown shut._ She froze in place, fear gripped her and wouldn’t let loose. He carefully placed a hand over one of the tables and let it wander around. Pym’s mouth felt dry. Nervously she glanced between Gawain, who appeared to be unconcious and Brother Salt, they had called him? The man turned around, pliers in hand. ‘‘Let me introduce you to my work‘‘.

* * *

‘‘27, 28, 29, 30‘‘

Squirrel counted the Red Paladins that crossed the camp. Walking past the cage they had put him in.

‘‘31, 32, 33‘‘ When they took him away, Pym had bitten the hand of one of the soldiers that escorted her. He in turn had punched her, hard, right in the middle of her face. He couldn’t make out why they wanted to seperate them in the first place. This was a bloody nightmare. _I need to be with them._ Maybe he could squeeze through the cage? Dig a tunnel with his hands? But the earth was hard and spiked with stones. So he stared out through the rods of his prison, defeated. ‘’34‘‘. Why did number 34 stop? And walk towards him? It dawned on him, that this must be his end aswell. He’ll probably get dragged to the same red-white tent Gawain and Pym have met their faith in. But number 34 didn’t wear red. He wore a dark cloak, that looked all too familiar. _You again._ The weeping eyes looked down at the cage. Behind him the sun set, painting the camp in even more red and purple hues. His voice came unexpected, quiet ‘‘I’ll come back for you‘‘. Then he was off again, leaving Squirrel with a dumbfounded expression. He’ll what? Chaos ensued in the night. The Red Paladins rode through the encampment with a single objective. Torches lit up the sky and shouts bellowed through the air. Father Carden had turned them against the king and his army, to obtain the Wolfblood Witch. Gravel sprayed against his cage, as horses galloped across the field. Squirrel sat in the corner, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. _He’ll come back for me._ He waited and watched the fights unfold.

* * *

‘‘Wait!‘‘ Squirrel could barely keep up with the grey monk. He had come for him. Simply unlocked the cage with a rusty key and motioned him to step out of there. But they couldn’t just leave. The others were still trapped in the midst of this chaos. He knew, the Green Knight couldn’t walk, that confession from before had hit him like a fist to the stomach. His plan dissolved right then. But they had horses here didn’t they? And with the help of this… big scary guy, they could possibly escape. What motives the silent monk held were a mystery to squirrel. But he would take help where it was granted. And he needed it badly. Squirrel grabbed him by the sleeve of his cape ‘‘Stop it, we need to get my friends! I won’t leave without them. They’re in that big red-white tent. Please!‘‘. Recognition moved through the expression of the monk. He didn’t stop. But he took a turn at the next tent they passed, striking a new course. _Maybe they could do this._ As they neared their destination, the grey monk came to a halt. He crouched down to squirrels level. ‘‘You. Stay here.‘‘. _Oh he wouldn’t tell him what to do. He’d come help, they had been seperated for long enough._ Yet the boy‘s attempt was stopped with a single hand on his chest. And a stoic expression. ‘‘Wait‘‘.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Already writing the next chapter. I'll try to make that one a bit longer!  
> Comments and proposals are always welcome!


End file.
